


Left Unchecked

by Dragaeth



Series: WIP [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Harry Potter Has Issues, Hogwarts Fourth Year, I'm not sure how trauma works so ahaha, Kinda Cracky, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Secret Identity, Sorta unhinged, Time Travel, like a lot lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28644771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragaeth/pseuds/Dragaeth
Summary: Harry was transported back to his fourth year, when the Goblet of fire spit out his name.Sadly, he's not doing well mentally.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Tom Riddle | Voldemort
Series: WIP [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100000
Comments: 17
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter opened his eyes, fully disoriented by the light that attacked his eyes.

Why was he sitting up?

He heard the sound of a flame's _phwomp._

"Harry Potter?" Dumbledore's voice said curiously. 

Dumbledore? How-he was _dead_ -

He finally registered what he was seeing. Harry Potter was sitting at the Gryffindor table of the great hall, with the goblet of fire proudly sitting at the front. 

"Oh, this again," he breathlessly let out, feeling the sides of his mouth start to tremble. "I'm leaving. Someone tell Cedric to not grab the cup," he shook as he stood, and instead of walking up to Dumbledore, his legs brought him to his old Gryffindor portrait hole. He didn't have the password. Fuck.

This was not what his therapist meant by revisiting his memories. 

He did book that session on Samhain, though. So fair play.

Holding in his sob or rage session, he sped up to the seventh floor. 

Bad, bad idea. He tried to not think of where he was as he plopped down in a red beanbag covering himself with a green blanket, tear stains seeping through the cloth.

After what seemed like hours, he emerged from his cocoon and called for...Dobby. he was alive. Wow. 

"Dobby!" He called out, voice still wobbly. 

The elf with wide eyes and too many pieces of Hermione's knitted pieces blinked up at him. "Harry Potter sir! Why are you not with your wheezies and grangy?"

"I just need some time alone, Dobby. Can you do me a favor and get my trunk for me? I would get it myself but i-" he waved at his puffy eyes and red nose. "I don't want to be seen like this."

"Of course mister Harry Potter Sir! Dobby's be getting your trunk right away!"

His old school trunk appeared before him.

School.

Right.

How the hell would he get a therapist with war veteran experiences at age 14?

Aging potion.

Fred. Fred was alive. Fred _is_ alive. Right now. In the great hall. 

And his wife wasn't. She existed but there was no way was he doing pedophilia things. 

All his best friends...were kids. 

They were kids. And he was...he was in his thirties. 

A life with and without Ron and Hermione just seemed so, so wrong now. But if he was involved with them, how would he ever explain the last fifteen years? Something like, 'oh yeah Sirius and Dumbledore were killed also I was set up to die'.

He was older than his Godfather. Wasn't that an interesting thought. His dogfather was alive. And Remus, and Tonks- but not Teddy. 

Ugh. Fudge was still Minister. 

Malfoy wasn't a Death Eater yet. 

Neville has no confidence. He should break Neville's wand. 

And, Voldemort.

Tom Marvolo Riddle. The root of most of his problems. 

He wasn't going to commit suicide again. That was a given. So, what to do with the man? 

Infiltrate his ranks, obviously. He knew all the Death Eaters, after all, and his literal soul has a part of Voldemort. If he played his cards correctly, he could take away the following Voldemort had. 

Oh, he was doing that again. Distracting himself with plans that probably only work off Potter Luck. 

Well, his therapist wasn't here, so he could do whatever he wanted!

No. Horrible mindset. But….well-?


	2. good- bad? choices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry potter curses a lot now in his mind this is a thing and not just my thought process nope haha

Well, his therapist wasn't here, so he could do whatever he wanted!

No. Horrible mindset. But….well-?

* * *

Well, first he had to do tournament things to keep his magic. Then, well, improvise. He wasn't letting himself stay at school longer than he needed to. He wasn't going to dumb himself down like he did at the Dursley's and let Snape bully him and let Dumbledore set him up to die _again._ And he wasn’t a student. He didn’t belong here.

So, he grabbed his trunk, and requested a floo from the Room of Requirement. He didn’t have any properties. There was Grimmauld place, but- no, hang on.

His godfather. Had a place to stay in his fourth year. But he lived in caves instead? For what? There was literally no point in doing that.

Slightly incredulous, he called out, "Number 12, Grimmauld place!" he stumbled out with the weight of his trunk, falling flat on his face. As he stood, he was met with two large round eyes. Oh right, Kreature. He ignored the screams of the elf about the injustice and pureblood things. Didn't Sirius say he didn't expect him to live this long? Well then, that was an easy fix. The elf was dead in his time anyway, so just one less thing to drive him to insanity.

Then, an owl with a letter swooped in, with a dreaded ministry seal. A warning for underage magic, stating his exact location. Well. He glanced at the bloody mess he made, decapitated head still rolling with momentum. He shook his head. This was just a warning, no one would be coming to drag him away to be put on trial. But just to be safe, he cast a general _protego totalum,_ just to have some type of ward up to mask his magic. Then, on par with his preparations, he cleaned up the body and R.A.B’s room, falling asleep on the untouched bed surrounded by Slytherin banners. 

\----

Harry awoke, bleary-eyed and confused. Why didn’t his alarm go off? Was he late- oh. Oh right. He flopped back down onto the foreign bed. He was in R.A.B’s room. The weird time travel stuff going on. Did he kill Kreature? He did, yeah, he did. Great.

He got up and stumbled to the bathroom, doing his business. As he washed his hands, he noticed how young he was. He knew, logically, that he was a literal fucking child. But seeing his prepubescent face and body kinda creeped him out. His footsteps thudded as he rushed to the bedside table to retrieve his wand, returning back to the bathroom and stopped short, wand pointing at his face as he peered at the mirror.

He would have to pose as someone else. He could pretend to be a foreigner but that meant accents. Besides, he had no papers, and forged files were very easily revealed, he learned in his career as an auror.

So he would have to pose as someone existing, preferably dead. Oh would you look at that Regulus Black was dead but no one knew where he went. How convenient. But there was also Sirius- right. He was still alive. That really wasn't a comforting thought.

How was he going to pull this off anyway? He didn't know shit about Regulus except he was a Death Eater- perfect for infiltrating the ranks- but he knew nothing of the man.

He could trust his godfather, right? Sirius Black? Because there was no way he could convince the world he was Regulus without Sirius helping him. But it would put a lot- a lot of emotional strain on the man. And Harry didn't want to do that to him.

So. Well. That was out.

He suddenly snickered, which turned into full blown laughter. What if- no nonono. But it would be ultimately hilarious. What if he, Harry Potter, pretended to be Tom Riddle? Because honestly that would actually work. Second year, Harry Potter was dragged down and killed and was replaced by Tom Riddle who posed as Harry Potter. And when the tournament came, Horcrux Tom knew something was up and left Hogwarts.

He was actually starting to seriously consider this now, it would be the most viable option. No one gets hurt, Voldemort gets dunked on, he gets to do things in Voldemort's name and freak the old people out! Like McGonagall, Dumbledore, Mr. Burke or Borgin he forgot, and he would have equal standing with Lord Voldemort himself! Besides, Harry already was a horcrux anyway so he didn't even need to lie about that part! But he would need an excuse as to why he stopped killing muggleborns.

Perhaps he got bored? Or he got a real body and got hungry. Wait no- of course. Harry Potter slain the basilisk and Tom just shot an Avada, killing Harry Potter and taking his place. Great. That's solved. And where did he go after his name was called?

The room of Requirement. And he found a tent he could live in. Yeah that seemed legit enough. Then he just couldn't go on without food or money so he re emerged into society as Voldemort's son. Because an eighteen years old Voldemort walking around simply didn't line up.

He chuckled to himself. If Dumbledore saw him as the child of Tom Riddle, would he think Voldemort found...love? Would he question his judgement then? The prophecy? Literally everything about his life?

Yeah. Yeah he was going through with this, he decided as he transfigured his features to be more Tom Riddle-esk. He had plenty of practice with body modifications, after all, being a fucking celebrity and having to constantly hide. What would his name be? Knota Riddle? not a Riddle? That was a feminine name though. What about Cademus? It's an easy brag of the blood lineage and will make Dumbledore uneasy. And that's a good thing.

After making his skin extra pale, he set off to make himself some breakfast. Which he didn't, he just ordered a burger from McDonalds. That was enough thinking for today, he was going to hole up in the library for a long while.

The moment he settled down with a decent book, his mind pestered him with the thought of the locket horcrux and simply wouldn't settle down. So, he retrieved the locket, becoming increasingly morbidly curious. What would Riddle decipher from his heart this time? What was Voldemort going to use to taunt him?  
  
  


This- this was a controlled environment, right?

Ah, well. He shrugged the locket onto himself and went back to his book as he unknowingly toyed with the artifact, drifting off to sleep.


	3. uncool man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> locket tom and job and tournament tings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *updates this fic instead of the other one because I kinda hate the other one now lmao whoops  
> anyway enjoy

When he awoke, he realized it would probably be a good idea to get some basilisk venom if he were to open the locket. He ordered a burger from McDonald's for breakfast and like the good citizen he was, he broke into Hogwarts and collected parts of the basilisk corpse from the chamber and arrived back on a thestral to Grimmauld Place, mentally bracing himself for whatever Tom Riddle was going to do.

He placed the dingy locket onto the dusty table. _ :Open:  _ he hissed at the locket, surprising himself with how easy the language came to him.

A translucent adult Tom Riddle appeared before him, looking the same as he did when Ron destroyed him. 

Then, Harry got curious.  _ :close: _ , he hissed. And to his surprise, the locket did indeed close, taking Riddle away as it shut. Huh. Handy. What if he-

_ :open. Close. Open. clos” _ S- _ ” open.” _ stOP!” _ close. Open.:  _ Riddle glared at him as Harry sat at in his chair smiling angelically. 

“Stop what?” he asked innocently.

“Stop opening and closing my locket,” Riddle growled, hands on his knees as he glared at the floor. 

“I think it’s mine now, don’t you think?” he asked in a mocking tone, somewhat teasing. 

His eyes flashed red. “And what. Makes you think that it’s yours,” Riddle grounded out, suppressing his anger.

_ Should he reveal the fact that he’s a horcrux?  _ Nah. “You,” he pointed at the locket. “Are in my possession. I.. own you? Wow that’s weird,” he mumbled, frowning pensively. 

“You have no power over me,” Riddle replied confidently. 

“Of course I don’t,” Harry agreed easily. “I just wanted to know how you were going to try to taunt me.”

“You’re never going to return to your own time, Harry Potter, you will never see your friends, your wife, your  _ horribly _ named children-”

“Not working,” Harry cut him off, leaving him looking offended.  _ I’m just that fucking jaded, huh? _

“And you’ll never play Minecraft,” Tom Riddle finished irritably.

“I’ll never play Minecraft,” he repeated in dawning disbelief. 

“There are no ‘memes,’ no Youtubers, no cat cafes,” confusion flashed over his face. “your favorite books series don’t exist including their fandoms-”

“Stop stop STOP! : _CLOSE:_ ” Harry cried out in anguish, regretting giving consent to be bullied. The locket closed with a satisfying click as Harry pondered his existence. He stowed the locket away into his robes for temporary safekeeping.

That was enough of that. He should be...what did he plan? Oh right, the impersonation of Voldemort. He should get on that.

\----

it took him a few weeks to get a decent job. He was now the Ministry receptionist, and had access to the records of each wand and their owners. The job itself was quite good for him though, aside from the infiltration thing. He had to find new hobbies and figure out how to live without mindlessly scrolling through the internet, and the job was occupying him. He even got to stare at the statue he hid behind in his fifth year and mentally recreate the extraordinary duel he witnessed.

But then, dragons. He still wanted his magic, after all. Glancing at the clock, he snuck down to the Department of Mysteries and grabbed a time-turner. The security really needed to be improved. He should be that security, he thought as he went to leave the halls, turning back to take all the time turners with him. That'd do. 

He abandoned his job to apparate to Grimmauld Place, changing his body back to his own. It took him a few moments to adjust to his body, unfamiliar with his short height as he conjured a pair of glasses, putting on his old Gryffindor robes. 

He snuck his way into Hogwarts under his cloak, taking it off while entering the Champions' tent, acting as if he had never left school. 

“You’re back,” Cedric whispered when he spotted Harry. “Professor! Professor Dumbledore! Harry’s back!” Cedric called out to Dumbledore who’s back was turned away from them. 

Ludo Bagman came closer, clutching his bag of dragons. “We all thought you ran away or something so we sent the hun- the...we don't have the task prepared for you,” he stumbled over his words, trying to explain. 

Harry’s face twisted in a confused frown. “What are you talking about? Leaving? Why would I leave?” He wasn’t planning on being questioned about where he went, so it was best to play dumb. 

"You haven’t been here since the goblet spouted you're name, Harry," a should-be-dead Cedric Diggory peered at him worriedly, the other champions watching on curiously. 

The canon outside sounded for Cedric to face his dragon. He visibly pulled himself together, shoulders forcibly relaxed as he stepped out of the tent. 

“Okay, so, am I not doing the first task?” Harry asked the general room.

“No, Harry, I suppose you aren’t,” Dumbledore responded, frowning. “But you say you haven’t left Hogwarts at all?” 

“No sir,” he frowned confusedly, masking his sudden realization that he never informed Cedric about the dragons beforehand. He was going to come out alive, wasn’t he? Or was he better off dead so Harry wouldn’t have to be reminded of him..- no, no stop that line of thought, Cedric is alive and that is good. 

“So does that mean I  _ don’t  _ have to do the tasks? Why hasn’t anyone told me?” he demanded indignantly. What the bloody hell was ‘magically binding’ then? And- and that meant Dumbledore has knowingly allowed Harry to be in life threatening situations- honestly, he should’ve expected it, his posture slumped in resignation. Dumbledore was never good to him. “I’m gonna see Ron and Hermione, then,” he mumbled as he backed out of the tent, not to head towards the benches but to the RoR. The moment he stepped out, he slipped on his invisibility cloak and disappeared. 

What a waste of time that was. He turned his time turner back once, and headed back to the Ministry to finish his shift. 

He forgot about prosthetic eyes and their abilities. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harry: if was dead why not dead now  
> also harry: no bad stop alive is good  
> barty: *squints* oh I don't have eyelids on this one

**Author's Note:**

> When u search for a fic with the same premise but u got tired of searching and write your own? Yeah that's me. (While forgetting I had work due but they don't accept late work so oh well)
> 
> I'm still looking for it tho!! If u know a fic where Harry is just rly not up for the whole time travel to 4th yr (i think) thing gimmie a link!! Not sure what the ship was tho


End file.
